


Ready, Let's Roll Onto Something New

by aewriting



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Figuring shit out, Jealousy, M/M, Mention Of Homophobia, Michael Guerin Week 2019, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 18:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewriting/pseuds/aewriting
Summary: When Michael discovers that Alex is seeing someone new, he makes his first-ever trip to a gay bar.  What starts as a hookup ends up being an eye-opening experience.***Day 5 of Michael Guerin Week: Always Support the Bottom





	Ready, Let's Roll Onto Something New

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, this fic contains a brief but detailed description of sex.

Michael’s gonna get fucked tonight.

By a dude.

***

Like, _fuck_-fucked. Dick in his ass, fucked.

Tonight.

He’s decided.

***

This plan, this whole thing, all started two nights ago. He’d been at the Pony, getting drunk, as per usual. Maria had finally relented and allowed him back, on the condition that he didn’t start any fights and didn’t speak to her directly. What the fuck ever.

Alex had been there, too, sitting at the bar, drinking a beer. He hadn’t noticed Michael, or he was doing a really good job of acting like it. Michael, of course, was paying way too much attention to every fucking detail. How rested Alex looked, the clothes he was wearing, how he carried himself, what he was drinking... So he didn’t miss the way Alex’s eyes lit up when he got a text, how they widened comically then darted around when he unlocked the phone, almost embarrassed. How his cheeks flushed and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, hard.

“Hey Manes!” Michael called out, and was pleased to see Alex startle, try to hide the phone. Michael was right there, so fast, and what he saw on the screen sent his head spinning.

It was a sext. That was the short description.

Longer description: it was a guy, obviously a guy, face out of the shot, wearing tight jeans and, Michael guessed, boxer briefs that, in this particular shot, were being pulled down to expose a peek of _very_ firm ass. The guy’s own hand was halfway down his crack, and the engineer in Michael marveled at the logistics that went into taking this particular selfie.

Never one for subtlety, Michael administered a little shot of telekinesis, causing Alex to fumble with the phone and drop it at Michael’s feet, screen up.

As Michael gallantly retrieved it, he read the accompanying caption:

_Still thinking about your dick in my ass._

_Captain _ _😉_

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Michael’s proud of himself. He didn’t crack the goddamn screen, or every piece of glass in the county, just casually handed Alex his phone back and walked out of the bar.

Vaguely, he heard Alex calling after him, then heard him wave off Maria (“_No, Maria, it’s _fine, _I’ll cover his tab…”_). Michael picked up his pace once he was in the parking lot. On this uneven gravel, with his prosthetic, Alex would have a hard time catching up to Michael, and Michael needed to be _gone. _

He peeled out of the lot without even looking back.

***

Before that, he’d never really considered or questioned the… logistics of sex with Alex. From that first encounter in the tool shed, on through Alex’s Air Force decade, whenever they got their stolen moments and decided to take things a… certain direction, Michael’d always topped. It’s not like they’d had tons of opportunities to explore each other, to learn their bodies, their preferences, their little quirks. They’d never talked about it. Why had they never talked about it?

Please, same reason they’d never talked about anything else – they’d been too damn hungry for each other, too busy racing the ticking clock of reality to do anything but slam their bodies together in the basest ways they knew how. And it had felt good…great… epic, really.

But Michael was starting to see that Alex had been right, their knowledge of each other was woefully incomplete.

Michael wonders if Alex talks to his new guy. If tight-ass makes Alex coffee in the morning, wakes him up with blowjobs, talks to him about his day, and his job, about his dreams and plans, about what he likes in bed, about what they should try next.

Or maybe it’s just, like, a Grndr hookup.

***

But anyway, yeah, Michael needs to get fucked. Like, he needs to try it.

He’s known he was bi since he was 17. Since Alex. And, intellectually, he knows… he _knows _it’s not _just _Alex. He notices other guys, thinks they’re hot. He watches all sorts of different porn, gets off on lots of different ideas.

It’s just… living in Roswell, being stuck here these ten years, it’s so much _easier _with women. And Michael’s wanted easy, oh, how he’s craved it.

So easy to pick up a pretty girl, get that quick shot of adrenaline and ego. So easy to bury himself in her and just lose himself in the moment, for a moment. And, like, no consequences, right? He’s cultivated that very carefully. Women know not to expect dates from him, relationships. They know to expect a good time, and that’s exactly what he delivers. And no one cares, not the way they’d care if it were men he was bending over the sinks at the Pony.

For a moment he thinks of Alex, the high school Alex, all emo and out. Michael was never that brave, not about _this, _not in Roswell. 

***

He has tomorrow off, so he gets off work, showers, and drives to Albuquerque. Tells no one. He pulls the truck up close to the bar he read about online, walks in.

He’s surprisingly nervous. For someone who’s had as much sex as he has, he feels like he’s 17 again. It takes him aback.

The bartender’s good-looking. Tan, a neatly trimmed beard, warm eyes. “What can I get you?”

“Whiskey, please,” Michael says. Experimentally, he gives the guy a smile, one of those smiles he’s usually giving out like candy to the ladies of Roswell. The bartender bites his lip a little, winks. “You got it.” Michael exhales, relieved. He _does_, even here, he does…

***

“You look a little lost, Cowboy.”

Michael turns, surprised. Girls call him that in Roswell, especially when he wears the hat. He’s not wearing the hat now.

The guy’s older than him, early 40s maybe. It’s a little hard to tell. He’s got blonde hair, a hint of stubble. Strong, calloused hands. Huh.

The man points down. “I saw your boots, your buckle. Those are the real deal, not some city boy playing dress-up.” He sits down next to Michael. “Used to be a rancher myself.”

Michael nods a bit. “Same. Um, not anymore, though. I’m a mechanic now.” He shrugs. “I kept the look.”

The guy laughs. “As well you should. It works for you.”

Michael chuckles a little at that. He looks the guy over. He’s well built, muscular but not overly so. About Michael’s height. He smells good. He looks nothing like Alex. Yeah, he could do, he could definitely do. “I’m Michael,” he says.

“Chris,” says the ex-rancher. He orders a beer from the bartender. “You want another round?”

Michael shrugs. “Sure, why not?” A guy’s never bought him a drink before, unless you count, like, Max, which Michael doesn’t. He stills. Has Alex ever bought him a drink before? Has he ever bought one for Alex?

“So, what brings you here, Michael,” the guy asks, pleasantly.

_I need fucked_. “Oh, you know…” Michael gestures around vaguely. He lets himself meet Chris’s eyes. “I’m from a small town almost three hours from here. Pretty rural. Pretty, um…”

“Homophobic?” Chris supplies.

“Ha, yeah, exactly,” Michael says, relieved. “How ‘bout you, you a regular?”

“Me?” Chris laughs. “No, I’m just here on business. I live in Utah with my husband.”

“Oh!” Michael says, a little surprised. Had he read this totally wrong?

Chris is still looking at him. “Something tells me you didn’t drive three hours just for a drink.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Michael says, voice a little sharper, a little meaner than it was before. “You cross state lines just to cheat on your husband?”

Chris just lets out a big laugh. “Oh wow.” He shakes his head a little, and it confuses Michael. He’s been with married women before, but it’s always been super secretive. Dirty. This… is not that.

Chris is still chuckling a little. “My husband and I have been together almost 15 years – married as soon as it was legal. Like, we’re good, really good, you know? But, if one of us is traveling without the other – and it doesn’t happen often, maybe once a year? – we kind of have this… arrangement, where, if we find someone interesting, we’re free to kind of do… whatever.” He sips his beer and takes in Michael’s confused face. “On one condition though.”

Michael’s curious, takes the bait. “What’s that?”

Chris grins. “We have to tell the other one everything. All about it. Preferably in bed.”

Michael’s eyebrows raise. “Wow.”

Chris shrugs. “What can I say? It’s a little unconventional, but it keeps things fresh, you know? Works for us.”

Michael throws up his hands a little. “Sure. You do you, man.”

Chris leans a little closer, tilts his head. “I was kinda hoping I could do you.”

Michael almost chokes on his whiskey. “Damn,” he manages.

Chris blushes. “That was pretty bad, huh?”

“Dude,” Michael says, still coughing a bit. “That was _really _bad. Like, so bad I might have to steal it.”

“Would I get royalties?”

Michael laughs. “How would that even work, with…” Michael trails off, looks at Chris’s amiable face. “Um…” he starts, oddly tentative. “I’m bi. That a problem for you?”

“For me? Nope, not at all.” He peers at Michael. “You thinking about it, then?”

Michael, then, lets himself think about it. Really think about it. “Yeah, I am.”

Chris nods, pleased. “I do have a question for you… it’s by no means a deal breaker, just something I’d want to know if this went, um, further.”

“Shoot,” Michael says.

“You said you’re from a small town, kinda close-minded about something like this.”

“Oh yeah,” Michael says emphatically.

“Would this… ah, would this be your first rodeo, Cowboy?”

Michael barks out a laugh. “Ha, no, definitely not my first.” The laugh fades, then, and he goes quiet. “But, um, my last rodeo, it was a while ago… And the bull, he was pretty tough.”

Chris huffs a little. “Threw you, did he?”

“Fuckin’ gored me, man.”

***

“So, Michael, what do you like?”

Michael stares at him.

“Like, if we do this tonight… what kinds of things do you like?”

Alex. He likes Alex.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it, the reason he’s here in this bar about to have sex with a stranger. He doesn’t know what he likes, outside of Alex. His entire sexual life has been made up of whatever he can get: whatever girl will give him the time of day, that too-brief clusterfuck with Maria… and Alex. What does he like?

Who fucking knows?

Chris is just staring at him, a look of mild concern on his face. “Well, um, I can go first if you want.”

Michael shrugs. “Sure.” And wonders, is this a thing? Like, is this a thing people do? Talk about sex before they have it? Like, not just to check on condoms and STIs, or to wind each other up (“_Still thinking about your dick in my ass. Captain._” Lame ass winking face emoji, god _damn _it), but out of actual, like, curiosity? Michael thinks this might be the most grown-up conversation he’s ever had about sex.

“I usually top,” Chris says. “It’s how I feel most comfortable. And I’m not super into kink, or pain, or stuff like that. I’m pretty straight forward. How does that sound to you?”

“Pretty fucking good, honestly.” Michael eyes him, takes a breath. “I, um…” You know what? Fuck it. “I’ve only been with one other guy before.”

“Your bull? The tough one?”

Michael chuckles darkly. “Yeah. It’s… it’s kind of a messed up history that we have, but, long story short, we first got together when we were 17, then we hooked up just, like, a handful of times over ten years, then – “

“What?” Chris interrupts. “Ten _years_?”

“He was military,” Michael explains with a shrug. “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. And a homophobic dad.”

“Ah, makes more sense now,” Chris says, knowing smile on his face. “I grew up Mormon, myself.”

“Gotcha,” Michael says wryly. “So, do you have, like, twelve brothers and sisters?”

“Seven, actually.”

“Jesus,” Michael mutters.

“Yeah. Anyway, go on about your bull.”

“Bull’s named Alex, and we almost made a real go of it here recently, but, um, a bunch of shit went down, and I screwed things up. And… and I just found out that he’s seeing someone new, and I accidentally saw one of his sexts, and – “

“Okay, wait, what? How did you _accidentally _see a sext?”

“I was near him in the bar when he got it.”

“Fuckin’ small towns,” Chris mutters.

“Dude, you have no idea,” Michael says. “And, the sext, it made it pretty clear that Alex had topped this guy, and it just made me realize that he’d never done that to me. Like, in all the times we were together, if we were, you know, together like that, Alex always bottomed, and it just really hit me hard, man. Like, had me questioning everything. Did I ever really know what Alex liked? Do I even fucking know what _I_ like?” Michael sighs. “In some ways, I feel like there’s this whole part of me that, living where I live, I’ve never really gotten to explore. And that’s why I’m here. I drove three hours so I could feel what it’s like to get fucked by a dude. Particularly one that’s _not _my ex.”

“Oh kid,” Chris says sadly. “That’s a lot, a hell of a lot.”

“Yeah,” Michael agrees, a little grimly. He exhales slowly, meets Chris’s eyes. “So, even with all that, you still want to give this a go?”

Chris regards him seriously. “I do if you do.”

Michael gives himself a quick gut check. He _does_. He feels like he owes it to himself to see this out, to see if this is something he could like. He knows he has a lot of different motivators going on right now. But regardless of whether he’s doing this out of spite, curiosity, self-discovery, or something totally different, he’s doing it. “Then let’s try it, Chris.”

Chris looks at him then, and in that moment, he looks older, warmer too. Gently, he puts a hand on Michael’s knee. “Thanks, kid. I’ll… I’ll make it good for you.”

***

He’s flat on his back on the bed, knees wide. Chris has two fingers working inside him, adds another. “Oh fuck,” Michael says sharply. “Yeah, damn, I get it now…”

“Get what, kid?”

Michael stills a bit. Fuck. Here he is, three fingers in his ass, thinking about Alex again. “Um, my ex,” he says, trying to relax, “I’d be trying to take my time with him, make sure he was good and open, right? And he’d just like, _beg_ me to fuck him. And now I get it, I get, mmm, I get it.” Michael’s writhing now.

“Way I see it,” says Chris as he works Michael over, “is it’s a little like a roller coaster. The good ones, the biggest ones? You have to really build up to them. Makes it better in the end.”

“Damn,” Michael says, swallowing loudly. “Fuck, um… higher the hill, bigger the thrill?”

Chris withdraws his fingers. “Did you just, like, make that up? Just now?”

“Um…”

“If you’re still coherent enough to be making up rhymes, I must be doing something wrong.”

Without warning, Chris’s slick fingers reenter him, all at once. Michael stifles a cry, poorly. “You’re not, you’re definitely not…”

***

“One of the hardest parts of bottoming is relaxing. Just breathe, okay, kid? And talk to me, if you need me to stop or slow down or anything, alright?”

Michael nods. Breathes. He feels his body relaxing, and it’s good. He relaxes more, and it’s _better._

***

Chris is running a hand up his thigh, catching his breath. “Well… how was it, Cowboy?”

Michael smiles a little at the endearment. “It was good, really good. Thank you.”

“I should be thanking _you,_” Chris says. Michael likes the way his eyes crinkle up as he says it. “Would you do it again?” Chris asks, genuinely curious.

“Like, um, right now?” Michael asks.

Chris rolls his eyes. “God, _no_. In general, though, would you?”

“Yeah, I think I would,” Michael says thoughtfully. “Don’t know that I’d want to bottom every time, but I’m glad I tried it.” He smirks a little. “Makes me want to try other things. Expand my repertoire.”

Chris seems more serious now. “You should, kid.” Michael stares at him. “Listen, I’m a romantic. I hope like hell you get back with your guy. But, whether you do or don’t? Definitely can’t hurt to know what you like, know what makes you tick, sexually. And then getting to finally explore that with someone else, like deeply explore it?” Chris shrugs. “It’s pretty incredible.”

Christ, that _sounds_ incredible. Michael wants it. Wants it with _Alex_.

They get cleaned up. “You might as well just stay the night, at this point,” Chris says. “I’d be a real dick if I made you drive three hours home, or sleep in your truck.”

Michael’s about to refuse him, but thinks better of it. “Okay,” he says, and he settles in bed next to Chris. Honestly, this was one of the oddest sexual experiences of his life, so different from the gamesmanship of his typical Pony hookups, and also miles from the heat and intensity of his encounters with Alex. “Are you really going to tell your husband about this?”

“_Oh _yeah. Not every day I pull in some young guy hot as you, Cowboy. I’m planning to brag a bit.”

***

Before they part ways in the morning, Chris gives Michael one of his business cards. “In case you’re ever in Salt Lake City.”

Michaels studies it. “You do home renovations?”

“Yup,” Chris says. “My husband and I own our own business. I do the demo, he does the design.”

Michael’s eyebrows raise. “Wow, you work with your husband?” He thinks immediately of doing Project Shepherd shit in the bunker with Alex, but supposes that home renovations are a bit different from genocidal government conspiracies. “And you don’t want to kill each other?”

Chris grins, wider than Michael’s seen to date. “Quite the opposite, actually.” He leans in close to Michael, embraces him warmly. “You take care of yourself, Cowboy. I’m rooting for you, with your bull.”

***

Michael starts getting a little choosier with his hookups, at the Pony.

Starts thinking more about what he genuinely likes, versus what he can get.

He makes a drive up to Albuquerque once a month, tries some new things…

***

He’s a friend to Alex.

Like, a _real _friend.

When Alex and Dan break up, Michael is supportive. He respects Alex’s boundaries, doesn’t push, but makes it _crystal _clear that he’s Alex’s, if he’ll let him be.

***

His day job is at Sanders’, and his night job is in the lab.

Liz buys him a bottle of top-shelf tequila when they finally resurrect Max.

High with the thrill of it, he and Alex fall back into bed.

They don’t fall out.

***

And they _talk._

Michael makes them coffee, one morning, and brings up sex. It’s the first time they’ve ever had a clothed conversation about it, and it’s revelatory.

Before, Michael thought he knew what “epic” meant. Now, he _really _does.

***

“You’re writing a card?” Alex asks, hair still mussed from sleep.

“Yeah,” Michael says, looking up at him. “You can check it out if you want.”

“You’re putting one of our wedding pictures in it?” Alex says, surprised. He picks up the card, reads it aloud. “_Got my bull. He hasn’t thrown me yet.” _He scoffs a little, furrows his brow. “What’s that all about?”

Michael smiles a little. Licks the envelope, places the stamp. “Just a little thank you for a friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Title is from "Somebody Told Me," by the Killers.


End file.
